Heart of the Game
by Reiven
Summary: Troy succumbs to the pressure put on him by his father and turns to performance enhancing drugs, but the effects prove to be too much. Will his friends continue to stay by his side through the roughest part: accepting that he may never walk or play again?
1. Part I

_Standard disclaimer applies._

**Authoress**: Reiven.  
**Genre**: Drama/Angst  
**Character**(s): Focused on Troy, but most of the time through the eyes of the other characters.  
**Timeline**: Post-Movie.  
**Classification**: I've kept to the canon aspect of the relationships, but this story won't be centred around romance, so it doesn't really matter. I only make casual reference to the pairings anyway.  
**Summary**: Troy succumbs to the pressure put on him by his father and peers and turns to performance enhancing drugs. But will the price he pays be too high just for the sake of pleasing others?

**Note**: I am not a doctor, nor do I have any history in the medical field. That being said, all and any medical jargon included is a result of my research, therefore it may or may not be accurate or correct.

**

* * *

**

**Heart of the Game  
**_Part I  
By Reiven_

_

* * *

_

'_Get your head in the game.'_

Troy skulked the deserted hallways, his body following wherever his feet led him. He'd been walking aimlessly around school grounds for the past half hour, eyes looking, but not seeing the abstract objects he passed on his way. His ears not hearing the sounds of laughter and chatter of the people lingering outside. His mind overwhelmed by thoughts, and yet, at the same time, unable to concentrate on anything in particular. The only thing that played over and over in his brain was the image of Chad's face as he stared up at him, eyes unblinking and hand attempting to stop the blood flowing from his busted lip.

He couldn't recall, for the life of him, just exactly what had took place those crucial seconds before he had dealt the crushing blow to his best friends' face. All he could remember was Chad making a derogatory remark about his inability to catch even the simplest of passes. It had just been another of his usual friend-mock-friend type of comment, but this time, Troy didn't know why he'd taken such offence to it.

The next thing he knew, there was a shuffling of feet and thundering stomps coming closer towards him as he felt himself being roughly pulled back by his forearm and looked up to see the enraged look on his father's face. His father-cum-coach asked him what the hell he was thinking, which was a reasonable question, except that Troy didn't know what he was thinking. His mind was muddled, and he had found himself in unknown territory. For once in his life, he'd felt an immense amount of irritation just at the sight of his team, and he didn't know why.

As if being startled out of the self imposed stupor, he suddenly found himself looking up into the imposing stage of the auditorium, the same place he and Gabriella had preformed the song that had landed them the main role in the Winter Musicale just last semester. It seemed like an eternity ago. After his fathers honest speech in the locker room prior to the game, Troy had expected the pressure to lessen on him as time went by, but as it were, it had only amounted immensely. His father had turned into a bigger drill sergeant than he had been in the past. He didn't know why. He'd expected life to get better, but instead, it had gotten worse.

His basketball schedule had now begun to take over his life. It had completely dominated his time set to spend with Gabriella and miscellaneous activities teenagers like him should be enjoying and the only time he had left was spent on studying and doing his homework. Other than that, it was all basketball, basketball and more basketball. He didn't know how he'd managed to get through it this far. Though, since lately he'd managed to divide his time to which it could accommodate him comfortably, he found an increase in his stamina and metabolism. Running felt just that much better as he felt that he could breathe easier, in turn, his basketball skills had doubled more than twice it's usual standard. And all he had to do was pop in one little pill.

Whatever further train of thoughts Troy had running through his head at that moment was abruptly derailed when he felt his stomach give a heave before he double over the side and vomited right between the aisles. It felt like hours and what seemed to be the entire content of his stomach now residing on the floor, did Troy manage to pull back, falling onto one of the seats and wiping the perspiration on his forehead with the back of his hand. His head had suddenly started to pound, and he found that he could not stand up without an overwhelming wave of dizziness washing over him. Thus, he decided to just remain where he was until the feeling passed. It was not as if he would be missed in the club anytime soon anyway, especially after what he did to Chad and what he'd said to his father before stomping out.

Squeezing his eyes shut as another wave of dizziness hit him; he was forced to lean back into the chair, eyes gazing up at the dark ceiling of the auditorium.

What did the team think when they saw Troy right-hooking his best friend and teammate? What were they whispering about when they heard all the things he'd called his father and coach and the way he'd turned his back to them? But the main worry that was going through his mind: did they know? Did they suspect that he, Troy Bolton, playmaker, school hero and worshipped by many, had fallen from grace so badly and with such a resounding thud that he'd gone so low as to turn to drugs to comfort him? But more importantly, did Troy care if they knew?

Sure, there was a probability of being kicked off the team if the school ever found out. There was a possibility of losing everyone that ever meant anything to him: his friends, his family, Gabriella. There was a chance of him losing the only thing he ever felt any passion for. Basketball. He'd lived for basketball from the day he was born. It was the first thing he learned how to do as a child. It was the first present he'd ever received from his father on his birthday. It was the only thing he'd know…until the day Gabriella showed up and brought this unknown life with her.

A life of singing, auditioning for musicals, of not caring what other people thought of him and especially, of him being the person he really was. Not the Troy the basketball guy or Troy the playmaker. But just being him; Troy Bolton.

Troy didn't know who he was anymore. He wasn't an athlete or singer. He was neither Coach Bolton's perfect basketball playing son nor revered captain of the Wildcats anymore. He was no friend to Chad, nor the perfect boyfriend to Gabriella. He wasn't Troy Bolton anymore, just a shadow's fragment of his former glory. Now it was the time the truth came out. Troy Bolton was gone, swallowed up by the obligation to achieve far beyond his capabilities, tossed aside for the dream of being someone whom he wasn't. He had been taken over by other people's expectations of him. He'd dug himself into the hole of degradation the moment he walked into the store looking for those drugs. He'd tied the noose around him neck the moment he felt the small pill slide down his esophagus, ending up in the content of his stomach. He'd felt himself die slowly from the inside, even as the adrenaline rushed through his body, feeling energy to his muscles, pumping air into his lung at incredible speed. He'd felt the existence of Troy Bolton slowly diminishing with every pill he took, ever gulp of water he used to wash it down with, with every basket he scored while under the effects of the drug. He may have had his head in the game, but his heart for it had died out long ago.

He was no longer Troy Bolton, just another casualty of the pressure he'd been forced to succumb to. He was nobody.

Troy leaned back in the stiff, foldable seat in the auditorium, hand reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small container, before screwing open the lid, taking out one of the pills and swallowing it. After moment contemplation, he took another, and another and another, until everything didn't fell quite as awful any more. He felt energetic as the adrenaline coursed through his veins. The guilt haunting him almost didn't feel like it mattered, nor did the sudden rapid increase of his heart rate or the sight of the objects spinning around him. All that mattered was at that moment, Troy felt like he could do anything.

_To be continued…_

_

* * *

_

Inspiration for this story is literally coming out through my nose. At the time I'm writing this, I'm three quarters through the fifth chapter and thinking up plot ideas for the subsequent chapters as I go along. But as far as I have gotten, I can safely say that I'm immensely pleased with the way it's turning out. And I'll be going to see Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man's Chest again tomorrow, so that's a big motivation to continue on.


	2. Part II

_Standard disclaimer applies._

**Note**: Let's just believe that basketball practice takes place after school at the side of it being a subject in school…which I assume as much, considering that I know nothing of American schools and their curricular schedule.

One other thing, I refer to Gabriella and have the others refer to her as Gabriella, because I dislike the nick name Gabby/Gabi/any other spelling variation of the name. And because I haven't heard her being referred to by that in the movie.

**

* * *

**

**Heart of the Game  
**_Part II_

_

* * *

_

Time passed silently in the gymnasium where the basketball team was practising. Troy's sudden outburst had startled many of them, especially the two people who had been involved. Chad sat near the sidelines, nursing his swollen lip, the blank look his face had adopted was still ever present. Even the assistant coaches had not ragged on him to return to practice. No one knew how to react to all this, what to make of Troy's uncharacteristic physical counter or his verbal lashing of the coach, whom had disappeared after Troy had walked out. They weren't sure if he'd gone out after Troy, or to go somewhere for the sake of his own confusion.

"Maybe we should end the practice for today?"

Someone suggested, to which everyone silently agreed. Things had taken a sudden and unexpected turn that no one could really be bothered to continue with the strict training regime.

While the rest returned to the locker rooms to get changed and take their leave for the day, Chad continued to stay glued to his seat. He was furious at Troy for hitting him like that, but somewhat worried at his friends' behaviour as well. It wasn't like try to use his fists to settle disputes, especially when there wasn't even a dispute to speak of.

Chad didn't know what was wrong with him, but he was determined to find out no matter what. First, he'd have to have a talk with Gabriella. Perhaps she's noticed something strange with Troy's behaviour these past few days, as he had, but had not really paid much attention to. He'd chalked it up to the pressure the coach and team were putting on him for the upcoming game, which was actually due in two weeks. If he'd have any intention of making it to the match, best friend in tow, he'd better get to the problem and devise solution as soon as possible. He already knew where to find the aforementioned girlfriend--in the science lab with his own girlfriend cooking up another chemical solution to something or other. Chad neither understood or cared about the scientific mumbo-jumbo the two of them were so interested in, but he cared about Troy, and to get to Troy, he'd need to get to Gabriella. And to get to Gabriella, he'd have to risk life and limb walking into the 'explosion waiting to happen' zone, also known as the science lab.

By the time he made it to the locker room, it was already empty. Everyone had already left beforehand and this left Chad to his own thoughts, but not for long.

While in the process of buttoning up his trousers, the sound of the door to the locker room being slammed open reached him, causing him to jump back in shock. Though he didn't really know why, but his body automatically moved towards the small crook between the locker and the wall near the far end of the stall, eyes keeping intent watch to any sign of movement.

There was sounds of shuffling feet and light steps headed his way, before the form of Troy appeared by the walkway. From Chad's position, he noticed the slight confused expression Troy wore on his face as he looked around, as if trying to locate an object he, himself didn't even know he was looking for. It continued that way for a few minutes before Troy took a step into the basketball club's cubicle and over to his own locker, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was being watched with hawk's eye proficiency.

Chad watched on as Troy peeled off his shirt, feeling partially like a peeping Tom for spying on Troy like this, but it wasn't until Troy's shirt hit the floor as he'd carelessly flung it aside and the boy turning around, his towel over his shoulder as he intended to get washed off before returning home, did Chad notice just how lean Troy had become. Whereas his body had been among the hot topics in the school ever since the day he first started school, right now, Chad couldn't help but narrow his eyes as he took in Troy's flatter than Victoria Beckham's stomach and the fact that on last count, he could see at least three ribs standing out against Troy's chest. Coupled with the fact that Troy didn't even seem to suspect anything out of the ordinary even as Chad stood _just_ out of his friends' line of sight.

There was something seriously wrong with Troy, and as the Wildcat's captain made his departure for the showers, Chad was now, more than ever, intent on getting to the bottom of it.

- - - - -

"Gabriella! Gabriella!"

Gabriella Montez whirled around at the sound of her name being called over the rush of people. Spotting the ever apparent afro of Chad bopping up and down as the boy jogged up to her, she couldn't help but smile. She had nothing against Chad, but she couldn't help but finding his hairstyle moderately amusing. At times, it even seemed like it had a life of its own.

"Hey, Chad. You seem to be in a hurry."

"Just wanted to catch up to you, that's all," he grinned, hands leaning on his knees as he slowly attempted to regain his breath. What with him being a basketball player and all, he would have expected himself to have at least a moderate amount of stamina. Straightening up, he turned to Gabriella, a more serious look adopted onto his face. "I actually wanted to talk with you about Troy. I mean, have you seen anything strange going on with him lately? Like irritability, mood swings or whatever?"

"Umm, not really. But I haven't been spending that much time with him for a while really, his dad keeps him on a very tight schedule. Why do you ask? And what happened to your lip?"

"He's just been acting pretty whacked for the past week, and this;" he motioned to the cut running over his upper and lower lip; "Is proof of it."

"Oh my god. Did Troy do that?" Gabriella's eyes widened as she touched her fingers to Chad's chin, studying the injury. "Why?"

"Who knows? We were just practising, which he was totally blowing in any case, and all of a sudden he comes up to me and knocks me one. Almost punched my damn teeth out! Then he mouthed off the coach and just left. We haven't seen him since," he ended, opting to leave out the part in the locker room.

"He told off his dad? But…what do you think is wrong with him?" Gabriella felt a wave of guilt wash up over her for not paying attention to Troy's sudden change is attitude.

"I don't know, but I'm definitely going to find out. You in?"

Gabriella simply nodded her head, feeling particularly overwhelmed by the information. The description Chad had given sounded nothing like the Troy she's met at the lodge on New Years, or the one she's sung with in the Winter Musicale. This was not the Troy Bolton she'd fallen in love with.

_To be continued…_

The comment on Chad's hair is actually my brothers' and my personal opinions. His hair is funny :D


	3. Part III

_Standard disclaimer applies._

**Summary**: Troy succumbs to the pressure put on him by his father and peers and turns to performance enhancing drugs, but the effects prove to be too much. Will his friends continue to stay by his side through the roughest part of it: accepting that he might never walk or play again?

**

* * *

**

**Heart of the Game  
**_Part III_

_

* * *

_

"_When I tell you to go left, you go left!"_

"_You think the opposing team's defenders are going to fall for that weak fake? Where's your drive Troy!"_

"_If you're going to continue to play like this, then the team has no chance of winning the championships, don't you see that! You're the heart of the team, Troy! So put some heart into your game, now!"_

Jack Bolton was, at the moment, a man of many worries. He loved his son beyond words, and his only wish for Troy was for a promising future for him. When he pushed the boy to his hardest, it was because he believes with all his heart that Troy had more in him than that. He had untapped potential, and if Jack was able to bring it out, than Troy would unquestionably become the greatest basketball stars in the history of the school, perhaps even the league. That's the only reason he pushed Troy the way he did, and to the extent that he did. He held no grudge against Gabriella, she was just a girlfriend; relationships have a time to be delved in, but the moment was crucial for Troy to ensure that his future is secure. Then he can go gallivanting with Gabriella for all he cared and bring more basketball playing Bolton's into the world.

The sound of the opening door shook him out of reverie as his head snapped back to see whom had returned. His wife had gone out grocery shopping earlier, and since he'd not heard the revving of the car engine, he assumed that it was his son.

"Troy? Come in here for a moment."

The was a stall pause the door, before he heard the light, almost soundless footsteps traveling towards him before Troy's downtrodden face came into view.

"Yeah?"

"Have a seat," he motioned to the empty seat across him in the study room. As Troy soundlessly made his way to the chair, Jack kept his eyes glued to his son's every movement. Was it just him, or did Troy seem like he'd lost some weight? He couldn't help but wonder to himself as his eyes followed Troy until the boy had come to a stop and taken seat.

"What happened today, Troy? You and Chad go a long way back, and I've never remembered a time when you two had gotten into a physical brawl."

Troy merely shrugged. "I don't know…" he trailed off, as if pausing to allow Jack to prepare for oncoming revelation, but none came. Troy merely leaned carelessly against the back of the chair, arms crossed over his chest and eyes looking at everything except his father, sitting hunched in the chair, elbows resting on his knees as he looked at his son, trying, but failing to catch his eye.

"What the hell is the matter with you, Troy?"

"Nothing…nothing the hell's the matter with me. What the hell's the matter with you, dad?" he scoffed.

"You're what's wrong with me, Troy!" his father shot to his feet, eyes raging with the flames of anger, coupled with the worry at his son's behaviour and somewhat…fear, of whatever Troy might be doing to himself to end up like this. "You're my son, Troy, and seeing you like this…so unlike yourself, worries me. You punched out your best friend, seldom go to the cafeteria during lunch time anymore and don't join your mother and I for dinner. Those bags under your eyes show that you don't seem to be sleeping well. You're easily irritated and…you seem to have become a completely different person--"

"Different?" Troy joined his father on his feet, eyes shining with incredulity at his fathers' accusation. "How would you know if I'm acting _different_? You never seem to be able to look past the whole basketball issue and just see just who exactly I am! How the hell would you know if I'm not 'being myself', or acting like a completely different person? You don't know me well enough to pass that judgement!"

Jack could only blink at Troy outburst, throat feeling dry and he suddenly lost the ability to speak, though Troy didn't even give him a chance to answer before spinning on his heels and walking away, up the stairs and into his room. Jack heard the distinct sound of a door being slammed as his knees buckled for under him, sending him reeling into the chair. Troy had never spoken to him like that and in that tone, and now, he did it twice in one day. Jack didn't know what to do, or say to his son, or how to confront him; but one thing he could be sure of was that there was something sinister to be blamed for Troy change in personality.

Thus the night passed without anymore conflicts. Troy had adamantly refused to come out of his room for dinner, citing that he wasn't hungry. Jack stayed silent through out the whole meal, not answering when his wife asked, and visibly winched when the topic of Troy was brought up. Troy's mother had finally decided to give up the game of twenty one questions after the twenty-second question his father had refused to answer, or would beat around the bush was asked. She had just decided, in a moment's decision, to brush it off as one of those father/son feuds that are a part of family life.

- - - - -

Classes the next day passed on smoothly, albeit tensely. Troy, seated in his usual spot at the front of the class had walked in just moment after Mr. Darbus had entered, leaving no room for inquiries from Gabriella, Chad or the rest of the team. He was also the first one to leave, following closely behind the teacher as the others were still busy with putting their things away and by the time Chad or Gabriella had made it out the classroom door, Troy had disappeared among the crowd in the hallways.

"See?" Chad asked, turning to Gabriella who had a look of distress carved onto her face as her mind played over whatever things that could be troubling Troy.

Things were silent through the entire period; gone was the usually present chatter and laughter coming from the basketball clubs, Troy at their head, or the banter that had been going on between the science students and aforementioned club, which lately turned out to be more playful than malicious. Chad's mind was swamped with the thought of Troy, leaving Taylor in the cold, as even Gabriella was to preoccupied with her worry for Troy to be bothered with anything or anyone for the rest of the day. But it wasn't until the start of lunch time did things start to get even more troubling.

"Hey, Gabriella."

Hearing the jingle of bells ring simultaneously as clicking of stilettos, Gabriella threw a look over her shoulder from where she had been conversing intently with Chad, to where the Evans twins were making a parting in the sea of students as they made their way towards them. The bright ray of the sun above head shining down and reflecting on Sharpay's glittery cardigan almost made their eyes water. And the combination of the blinding light and Ryan's neon green beret was something of a lethal element to boot.

"Sharpay."

"Look, we're just here to tell you something that might be of some concern to you…Ryan, tell them," Sharpay motioned for her brother to step forward closer to the two. "Ryan saw something in the bathroom earlier that--"

"Are you going to tell them, or am I?"

"Sorry. Continue."

Clearing his throat, Ryan bowed down slightly, and Chad and Gabriella took this as a cue to lean in closer to him. "Well, I don't really know if this is cause of concern for you, maybe…since we've noticed the way Troy's been acting--weirdly," as if he suddenly noticed Chad staring at him, he repented. "Not that I'm saying Troy's weird, or anything, it's just--"

"Get on with it, Ryan!"

"Yeah, so I went to the bathroom and made it half way when I heard the sound of someone puking. So I peeked in and saw Troy retching the entire content of his breakfast into the toilet. It was not a pretty sight. It lasted at least about half a minute or so, before he straightened up and left. I naturally took cover between the door and the wall. But I'll tell you this; he looked like complete crap."

"Did you see anything else?" Chad interrogated further.

"Anything else?"

He seemed to be considering his answer, but upon deciding that there was nothing to gain by beating around the bush, continued on; "I'm going to tell you something, but you have to promise, promise on the pain of death that you'll never tell anyone what I'm about to tell you right now. Okay?"

Sharpay and Gabriella nodded and Ryan placed a hand on his chest and held to fingers of his free hand in the air before him; "Scouts honour."

"Err…o-kay…" Chad raised an eyebrow at Ryan, who shrugged unaffectedly. "This is just an assumption, and by no means is this proven, but…I guess it has passed through the mind of the other guys as well, maybe, and--there no proof to back up this claim, but…but…err--I guess what I'm trying to say is," motioning for the three to come closer, he whispered so that there was no chance of anyone could overhear them. "I have had experience in this before and the signs, they're leaning to that as well, and…well…I think Troy's doing drugs."

Silence enveloped them as the Sharpay, Gabriella and Ryan scrutinized Chad's words.

"Troy? Drugs?" Gabriella muttered in disbelief. "There's no way…just, not possible."

"How would you know, Danforth?"

"I've seen it happen in my family, a few of my cousins," he uttered morosely.

"But if Troy…_why_?"

"Have you seen the way his dad's been ragging him in these past months? It's totally brutal. He's as bad with the team at school, but everyone knows that Troy's got it worse since they live under the same roof."

"But didn't his dad seem fairly understanding after the musicale?" Ryan asked, remembering the look on Mr. Bolton's face as he stood discretely in the back during Troy and Gabriella's performance.

"Yeah, he was cool for a while. Then this some big shot coach came around, I think he was a teammate of Troy's dad at some point in time and, well, I guess that coach just wanted to prove himself or something. It all went sour after that."

"But Troy…what are we going to do to help him? If he is indeed doing what you said he's doing?" Gabriella looked worriedly at Chad, then at the twins, worry clearly shining in her eyes.

"This is just a guess, but don't worry, I'll try and talk to him after practice later," placing a comforting hand on Gabriella's shoulders, he offered her a smile. "We'll help Troy get through this."

"If you need anything--"

Both were rather shocked to hear Sharpay announce suddenly, and turned their gazes towards her and her brother.

"We're just as ready to help. I mean…"

"We've got to have each other backs, right? Even if Troy and Gabriella did beat us out of the musicale," Ryan finished.

"Thanks guys. So I'll try and have a word with him at the next practice. I'll inform you three about any changes in the plan or something."

And with that, the four unlikely co-conspirators parted ways. Chad moved to the gymnasium for basketball practice and Gabriella to the science lab to find Taylor. Hoping that her worry would not overpower her ability to do work too much. Sharpay and Ryan continued on their way to somewhere nobody knew, doing things that no one were the wisest to, just as they usually did.

_To be continued…_

* * *


	4. Part IV

_Standard disclaimer applies._

**Note**: The extent of my basketball knowledge goes only as far as Slam Dunk. And past Sakuragi Hanamichi's wailing, there isn't much that you can gather from it :D

**

* * *

**

**Heart of the Game  
**_Part IV_

_

* * *

_

"Zeke, you need to learn to pass the ball faster! Michael! I said dribbling! Not drooling! Get your act together team! What are you, a bunch of sissies? Sissies belong in the theatre, not in basketball!"

The impact of the silence nearly knocked the assistant coaches off their feat. Neither players nor the people on the sidelines knew whether Coach Bolton's comment was an intentional stab at Troy or otherwise, but all eyes turned to the said player either way. Troy, to his credit, didn't seem to have heard, or was blatantly ignoring it his fathers words (and him on a whole). He'd neither said, nor looked at any of them directly when he wasn't passing the ball since the moment he'd stepped through the doors.

"Troy! Pass the ball! There is no 'I' in team!"

As if his fathers' words physically slapped him in the face, Troy spun around on a whim and just threw the ball at the hoop. Missing the net, it bounced off of the rail, hit the backboard and fell to the floor with a dull thud before rolling away, rebounding off one of the players' foot.

Upon closer inspection, one could see the steam rising out of Coach Bolton's ears as he stomped his way to where Troy was standing nonchalantly to the side, wiping the sweat on his forehead with the back of his arm.

"What the HELL is the matter with you, Troy? If you think that sloppy playing is going to get you anywhere in life, you're wrong! You're just too fucking wrong! What the fuck were you thinking! Doesn't this team matter to you anymore? Are you willing to throw away your entire career, your entire future just because of some silly, childish tantrum? Are you listening to me?" growling out the words, the coach grabbed Troy roughly by the arm and turned his around, stopping him mid-step as he was just about to walk away.

"No, I'm not."

"Excuse me?"

"You asked if I was listening to you, I said 'I'm not'. Can I go now?" he tried to jerk his arm out of his father's vice like grip, but failed. If anything, the grip just became tighter.

"NO! You can't go now! Not until you tell me what the fuck has been going on inside that head of yours!" caught up in his anger, Coach Bolton didn't notice the rest of the team and his colleagues gathering around him as a precaution if the situation were to get out of hand. And it seemed at this moment, they were more worried about prying Troy off of his father than the other way around.

"Troy…" Chad began, but was ignored.

"As I told you yesterday, dad, you couldn't even begin to comprehend what I have on my mind."

"Is this because I've been pushing you harder? Or because I told you to spend less time with Gabriella? I'm doing this for your own good, Troy. For your future."

"And I'm doing this because I'm pissed off," he tore his arm out of his fathers' clutches in a show of shocking strength and shoved his father right into one of the people standing behind. "Don't you see, dad. Everyone does something for a reason, and it's seldom for the sake of other people. You're just doing this for you! For your reputation just because your teammate is now an established member of a basketball club, and you're just some crummy, unhappy middle aged man coaching a bunch of loser, high school basketball wannabe--"

Whatever Troy had intended to say after was halted, when he felt an intense sting in his left cheek as his head flew to the side.

"How dare you say that to me, you ungrateful brat!" the man seemed to be brimming with anger as he locked an intense glare on his son, who had raised his hand up and clutched his now reddening cheek. Troy kept his gaze away, looking at the floor instead of the people, especially not his fuming father. "I have been coaching for years, and never have I met a boy as unappreciative as you. My own SON! I don't know what your problem is, and quite frankly, I don't think I even care anymore. I've tried to help, but I see now that it's all been a great waste. So why don't you and your egotistical pride out of here. The team doesn't need people like you on it."

Turning his back to the still motionless Troy, Jack ordered the rest of the team back to their practice, which they obliged, albeit hesitantly; leaving Troy to stand alone in the middle of the court.

"PRACTICE, ALL OF YOU!"

The sound of the whistle rang and basketballs started flying around once again, yet, Troy did not move from his spot, eyes still firmly glued to the floor, blinking continuously as if he were adjusting his vision to something.

The rest of the team couldn't help but stare at their shunned captain out of the corner of their eyes, feeling guilty at having abandoned him like that. But he was the one that had brought it onto himself. He was the one who had done a completely three-sixty, personality wise, and they couldn't help that he was the one who had insulted his father and coach right in front of the entire basketball team. They couldn't help it…but at that moment, they heard the distinct thump of a body hitting ground and looked over to where Troy had been previously standing, only to find him on his stomach on the polished floors, unconscious.

"Troy!"

Immediately, all activities stopped, basketballs were dropped to the ground as they rushed to their fallen members' side.

Coach Bolton was just about to yell at them for the halt, when his eyes were too, drawn to the gathering crowd. Releasing the hold he had on the clipboard in hand, he rushed to where the entire team had gathered around Troy's fallen body. The angered expression on his face dying quickly only to be replaced by anxiety and he ran those few meters, which seemed like an eternity to him. "Troy!" He yelled, dropping to his knees before his body could come to a full halt next to Troy. Placing a hand on the small of his sons' back, he attempted to shake him awake gently.

His eyes never fluttered, neither of his limbs moved even a millimeter. His lips were parted slightly, facing his splayed out right arm in front of him; sweat beads covered his forehead and dripped onto the polished floors.

"Get the nurse! Someone call an ambulance!" he yelled to the people around, not caring whoever took the order, as long as they did so. The only thing that was playing over and over in his mind was a prayer that the higher power would not take away his son. His mind was running at full speed, frantic thoughts mingling with the worry and anxiety, and the thoughts that if it would happen, then Troy would die thinking that his father had shunned him…believing that his own father hated him.

"Chad and Zeke went to get the nurse and call ambulance."

He vaguely noticed when someone informed him of the proceedings, but he couldn't concentrate on it. His mind was in a state of chaos and he bent down to look into Troy's unconscious face, hand moving to brush away the wayward bangs from his forehead. "Hang in there, son," he whispered into Troy's ear, planting a small kiss on the side of his temple. "Hang in there. Help's on the way."

_To be continued…_

_

* * *

_

Well, I haven't written a cliff-hanger in a looooong time (credited to the fact that I've been writing mostly humour one-shots that require not cliff-hangers) but said medical jargon with commence in the next chapter. One again, I stress that I am no doctor; I have just done some research (I'm wound that way) on the points that I've chosen to use in the story (that actually inspired the story in the first place) and though I'll try to keep it as simple and correct as possible, it might not all work that way, so…be gentle.


	5. Part V

_Standard disclaimer applies._

**Note**: It doesn't really have any impact on the plot, but the entire schedule of the school has been completely rewired starting from this chapter.

**

* * *

**

**Heart of the Game  
**_Part V_

_

* * *

_

There was a flurry of muttering streaming through the classes, between the student and the teachers when the shrill siren of an ambulance penetrated the tranquil atmosphere of their classes. Many rushed to the windows to catch a glimpse of what was happening. Had there been an accident in one of the classes? Did one of the teachers have a heart attack and die? Did someone finally get food poisoning from the crap being served at the cafeteria? So many questions arising; the teachers did all they could to keep the commotion under control, but ultimately failed. There were even a couple who left the room to follow the path of the paramedics, partially to satisfy their own curiosity and for the rest to find out if there was anything they could help with.

Mrs. Darbus had been in the middle of her recitation of Hamlet to her class when the talking erupted and all students rushed towards the window to see the bright, flashing lights of the emergency vehicle. Where she would have normally apprehended all those unruly student, she opted to find out what had happened, and joined a few of the other teachers as they rushed to where the medics had disappeared to; the gymnasium.

"Did one of the student's get injured?" Mrs. Darbus asked through her thick framed spectacles, looking over at one of her colleagues.

"Don't know. Must be one of Boltons' kids, since they have basketball practice in the gym right now."

Nodding her head in agreement, the drama teacher chose not to continue the questions further. There was a tingling feeling in the pit of her stomach about the whole thing, and she didn't think that she was going to like whatever it is she would discover.

- - - - -

"Troy, come on, buddy. Where the fuck is that ambulance?" snapping his head away from Troy for the first time, Jack locked a distressed glare at the school's resident nurse that had arrived just a few minutes ago.

"I heard the siren wailing just a moment ago, Mr. Danforth is probably leading them this way."

She spoke the words not a moment too soon; as the doors flew open a fraction of a second later. Chad's pale, sweaty face came into view followed by two paramedic wheeling in the gurney.

"What happened here?" one of the asked, gently pushing aside Jack and the nurse and kneeling down beside Troy. He grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around just as the second medic rushed up to them.

"I don't know. One minute he was fine, the next we know he's passed out cold on the floor," Jack couldn't keep the worry from lacing his voice as he spoke, grabbing his hair in frustration at his helplessness as he watched the paramedics work on Troy. At that moment, the frantic mess that was his mind suddenly stopped, the voiced turned into muddled mumblings and all sounds of the frantic gym disappeared completely. Jack didn't know what happened, or what he could do. His eyes staged glued firmly to the still form of his son lying motionless of the floor without a single sign of awareness no matter what the medics did or said. He thought he could vaguely make out the words 'pupils dilated and unresponsive to light' and 'high blood pressure' but he couldn't be certain. Everything was just one big mess at the moment, and for the first time since the birth of his child, Jack felt like curling up on the floor and cry, but not tears of happiness.

"We've got to get him to the hospital as soon as possible."

"I'll ride with him!" finally able to separate the incoherent noise in his mind from the real world, Jack immediately replied, looking anxious at Troy as they strapped him to the gurney; his eyes remained closed.

The entire gymnasium had gone silent; left was the frequent panting of Chads' as the reality of the situation, plus the ache he'd suddenly developed in his legs as a result of the speed he'd run to call the ambulance and lead them to Troy, hit back with a vengeance.

No one turned when the entrance door burst open once again and in came Mrs. Darbus and a couple of the teachers that had come to check up on the happenings. They were brusquely ignored, stepping aside as the medics wheeled the gurney towards the door, heading to the ambulance in which they'd be transferring Troy to the hospital in. Jack followed in step, walking at the side of his son, hand keeping a firm grip on Troys' and the rest of the people present trailed behind them. Though they would probably not be allowed to accompany him to the hospital, they were intent in being with Troy at least till the very last moment.

The hustling out the gym room, through the deserted hallways and to the ambulance took an eternity in Jacks' mind. He vaguely saw curious glances from the students in the classrooms as they passed, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered other than Troy.

He stood to the side Troy was loaded into the back on the ambulance before crawling in as per the medics' instructions. He left no parting word to the crowd of players that had gathered, eyes shining with worry as to the condition of they friend and teammate, or the teachers. As the doors closed, the engine started up and the sirens began their wail once again, Jack could only sit helplessly on the side, both hand grasping Troy's and he planted a kiss on his son's knuckles. "Hang in there, Troy."

The lingering silence left by the waning sound of the ambulance's siren overwhelmed.

Chad wanted so bad to go to the hospital and be with Troy through whatever means possible. But he found that he had an obligation to inform Gabriella of what had happened, rather than leaving her to hear it through the rumours that were soon to circulate around the school.

Leaving the company of his team who were still staring at the horizon where they could still make out the red and blue lights of the ambulances' signal as it reflected on the buildings in the distant, Chad rushed up the stairs and took a turn to the left, following the hall that would lead him to Gabriella's class that was located near the other end of the school.

But the one things that kept repeating over and over in his mind was whether his assumptions had been right and Troy had been doing drugs. He'd lost a few relatives to athletic related drug problems and just the thought of Troy…no, he refused to even consider the possibilities. He didn't know what sort of drugs Troy might have been taking, and perhaps there was just that little chance that it wasn't quite as bad as he'd thought it out to be…maybe.

- - - - -

"Sharpay!"

Snapping around as his furiously hushed whisper, Sharpay kept her eyes on her twin brother as he quickly and casually made his way towards her. Gabriella had also heard his call, and bent down to look at the approaching Evans through the space over the table she was sitting across from Sharpay.

Quickly taking a seat next to his sister and motioning for Gabriella to lean in closer so that the teacher wouldn't overhear.

"I saw an ambulance parked out in front of the school just now," he stated to the point, casting a worried look at Gabriella and his sister. "Do you think…?"

"Ms. Montez, Mr. and Mrs. Evans…is there something you wish to share with the rest of the class?" the science teacher had a hand to her hips and she directed a firm look at the three people in question.

Gabriella had never been a mean person at heart, but it was at this exact moment that her sadistic side arose, and she vaguely wished that the pregnant teacher would suddenly get contractions, have her water break…anything! just so that Ryan could finish whatever he had to say.

All there had just barely opened their mouth to answer when there was a loud cry of; "Gabriella!" and Chad appeared at the door of the laboratory, out of breath. He seemed to be out of breath quite frequently lately, and that was not something he was personally proud off. He was a basketball player; he should have more stamina than that.

"Mr. Danforth, how nice is it for you to join in interrupting this class--"

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I really need to talk with Gabriella. It's important!"

Noting the frantic way in which he spoke, the teacher gave a resigned sigh and nodded to Gabriella who immediately jumped to her feet and rushed out, following Chad. Her face lined with worry as she felt a skip in her heart beat at the fear of what Chad had to say.

"I think Mr. Danforth had just been calling Ms. Montez; Mr. and Ms. Evans," she raised an eyebrow when noticing that they two had also gotten out of their seat to follow.

"Oh, Sharpay and Ryan too!" Chad appeared once again, motioning for the twins to follow him.

The teacher just gave another exasperated sigh but agreed nonetheless. The four made their way out of hearing range, leaving the rest of the students and an ignored Taylor to their confusion.

"Chad…" Gabriella had her hand up to her chest as he attempted to calm the frantic thumping of her heart. "Is it Troy?" she gulped, needing, but afraid to hear what the answer would be.

Chad just nodded his head morosely. "He did it again earlier with the coach and got slapped for it. The next thing we know, he's out cold on the floor."

"Oh, God," gasping, Gabriella leaned against the wall for support.

"What's wrong with him?" Sharpay asked what Gabriella had been wanting to ask, but was unable to and she moved to the distressed girls' side.

"I don't know. The medics didn't say anything either, but from the way they acted, it looks bad."

"Do you think it's the result of…what you said earlier?" the smile usually on Ryan's face was gone and he looked from Sharpay to Gabriella and to Chad for answers.

"I don't know either…maybe…but--"

"I have to see him. I have to be with him," Gabriella muttered, as much to herself in her daze as to the rest of her companions, feeling the teary droplets slide down her cheek and spill onto her blouse.

"What about school?"

"To hell with school," Chad cursed slowly, looking at Ryan then at the two girls who just nodded in agreement.

"How're we going to get there?" Ryan asked soon after; it wasn't that he had any trouble with skipping out in school, especially when it was important, it was just one of those obvious 'statements of the moment' that was ever present during any case of emergencies.

"I think I may be of some assistance."

Surprised at the familiar voice and the presence of the ever eccentric drama teacher, Mrs. Darbus, all four the teens took an involuntary step back.

"Excuse us, Mrs. Darbus?" Sharpay repeated, unable to really comprehend the words of the woman. "But…are you drunk?"

"No, Sharpay, I am not drunk. I am merely offering my assistance to you in these dire moments. Because, well, I would be a liar not to admit that I have grown quite fond of Troy Bolton," she confessed, throwing her dark purple shawl over one shoulder. "And…I'll just leave the rest up to your imaginations, no matter how--_limited _it may be. Now come, children. Let us board the carriage of the stars and bring our souls to where it is meant to reside."

When there was no movement or sound of footsteps following behind her, she turned back to face the bemused expressions on the faces of the four teens.

"Umm--Like…what?"

"Oh, let us get to the hospital immediately," she rolled her eyes when a look of realization flashed over their faces before the four mouthed an 'o' and quickly jogged up to catch up with her.

The last thing people saw as the five passed by their classrooms was the stringy ends of Mrs. Darbus' shawl billowing behind her as she swaggered off in the direction of the teachers' parking lot, four students in tow.

_To be continued…_

_

* * *

_

Couldn't not include the loveable Mrs. Darbus, now could I?…Okay, so I could have left her out, but what the heck. More people to angst over Troy is always a joy to read, aye? Besides, isn't she one of the two teachers in the movie that are actually allowed to speak their lines instead of miming it out? Besides, I like the old coot.


	6. Part VI

_Standard disclaimer applies._

**Note**: The aforementioned medical stuff actually starts here, I kind of lost my nerve last chapter and just went with the good ol' character POV, 'might or might not have heard stuff being said' that guarantees that I don't make a complete ass of myself. The last few chapters just covered the 'drama' part of the genre, and now comes the 'angst'. I'm so excited. I haven't been this excited to write angst in a long time!

This chapter is dedicated to one of my loyal reviewers, **AgnesSophia**, as a belated birthday present and for being such and awesome reviewer that ever author wants. This doesn't mean that I don't appreciate all the review I get, it's just, frankly, how will I better myself and my writing with comments such as 'update soon' and 'great story'? I appreciate criticism; tell me what you want to see more of. Who you want more? Which reaction would you like to see most? That's the kind of critiques that lead to a better story. I'm not asking for an essay length review, just a little feedback. Being told you're good as flattering, but it's criticism that helps you in the long run.

Besides that, to all the reviewers: I hope you enjoy and you will consider this. To AgnesSophia, continue being an awesome reviewer! 3

**

* * *

**

**Heart of the Game  
**_Part VI_

_

* * *

_

Jack Bolton never liked hospitals, one of the few exceptions had been the time when Troy was born. That was the only time that stood out in his mind where he couldn't wait to step through those hospital doors; sure there had been the slight fear of a complication or something to that effect, which thankfully, never came through. But it was that moment, sometime around two fifteen a.m. when his wife had complained of pains in her stomach, the rush of adrenaline coursing through his body as he drove his wife to the hospital. The excitement he felt as he stood beside his wife, grasping her sweaty hand in his and looking anxiously at the attending doctors.

Jack may have been under the false assumption of the true meaning of happiness before, but it was at that moment when his wife gave the final heave and the sound of wailing reach his ears did he truly discover what happiness was all about. He took him, his son, just a wee little person then into his arms. His eyes unable to leave the wrinkled face, the softness of his skin and his teeny little fingers and toes. If there was ever a time when Jack though that he'd just drop to the ground and cry without any sense of shame, it was then, at the birth of his first child.

But now, looking around at the frantic state of the halls through the glass door; the smell of disinfectant that hazed the atmosphere and the sight of the unlimited white walls, made Jack want to run out and not look back. Because looking back would mean that he'd have to face the truth of what was wrong with Troy. What if there was a complication this time? Jack could not imagine moving on with his life if Troy was not around; if he wasn't able to look at the smile on his face in the mornings before school, or hear the sound of his laughter when he came around with his friends. He could not bear the thought of losing Troy because it would mean that he'd be losing a part of himself as well.

"Jack!"

The door flew open and in ran his flustered wife. Judging from the state of her tousled look, Jack could safely assume that she had dropped all her housework and rushed here as quickly as she could. She probably even forgot to lock the door; he vaguely mused.

"Troy?" she asked in a tone so weak and fearful that it made his heart break. "What happened to my baby?"

Standing up from the stiff chair that lined the walls of the waiting room, he walked over to his wife and circled his arms around here, allowing to bury her face into his chest. He gently stroked her hair, attempting to comfort her as much as he possibly could even if the fact of the matter was that he could use some comforting of his own.

"He'd acted up at practice earlier. I don't know what was wrong with him, but I'd told him to get his act straight or to leave the team. He collapsed all of a sudden after that and…now here we are. I don't know how he's doing, the doctors immediately took him away when we arrived."

"But…why? He isn't sick--he didn't look sick when he left for school this morning, and--this isn't happening…this can't be happening. My Troy. My baby," she choked, gripping tighter onto her husband in grief.

"Shush," he hushed her, pulling her closer and resting his chin on her head as his hand ran through her long hair. "He's going to be all right. He's strong, you know that."

The tranquillity of the moment didn't last long though, when after a few silent minutes, the door slammed open as four bodies came barraging through it.

Chad, Gabriella, Sharpay and Ryan all remained near the doorframe to catch their breath, eyes looking to the two adults before them for answer. It was an additional few seconds before Mrs. Darbus' plump figure appeared behind them.

"Bolton," she nodded courteously. "How is Troy?"

"Darbus?" the startling revelation almost made Jack forget about his current predicament for a while and wonder if this was some sort of prank someone out there was pulling on him; something like 'Punk'd' which all the kids seem to be obsessed with at the moment. First Troy, now Darbus? He would have laughed had the situation not been so grim.

"Coach Bolton. How is Troy? Is he all right?"

"What did the doctors say?"

"It isn't serious, is it?"

All four teens chose to ask at the same time, not allowing Jack a moment to get his thoughts straight or even comprehend what exactly they were asking.

"Are you here for a Troy Bolton?"

The new voice penetrated the blaring of questions in the waiting room, causing all attention to snap towards him.

"I'm his father," Jack gulped; once again the thought of running out of the hospital seemed very much appealing. "How is he?"

The doctor just nodded his head, leaving the rest to wonder if it was a 'good news' nod or a 'bad news' nod.

"I'm Dr. Cooper; the physician that's been attending to your son. Now before I start anything, I'll just say that we've managed to get his blood-pressure down and his condition is stable…at the moment. However, at one point in the emergency room, his heart had stopped beating and both his lungs collapsed. We managed to resuscitate him, but the condition of his lungs remain in question. We'd intubated him and moved him to the ICU so that we can keep a closer eye on his breathing. However, there are a few question that I would like to ask you."

Jack swallowed the lump in his throat. He could feel his wife tremble against him and that Sharpay had moved to comfort Gabriella. Chad and Ryan stood to the side, an expression of stunned disbelief on their faces.

"Have you noticed anything peculiar with your son in these past few days? Changes in his personality, diet? Or if he seemed to be having difficulty with normal things; talking, walking…?"

"He had become quite irritable with everyone and everything around him. I don't know about the diet, he seldom joined my wife and I at dinner now. The only time I've seen him at the kitchen table was when he sometimes had his coffee in the mornings," he finished, looking over at Chad as he spoke.

"He didn't come to the cafeteria either, and…like Coach Bolton said about his behaviour. But…there was this--yesterday, I saw him in the locker rooms and he looked really skinny, like he hadn't been eating. Not to mention the shadows he sometimes has under his eyes."

The doctor just nodded simply and turned his gaze over to the clipboard in his possession. "Thank you for those ans--"

"Is Troy doing drugs?" Chad blurted out without thinking, looking desperately at the doctor to tell him that it wasn't true.

"Drugs?" Jack repeated, looking at Chad as if he'd grown a second head. "Troy does not do drugs. What the heck would make you even come to such a ridiculous assumption?"

"On the contrary, Mr. Bolton," the doctor interjected.

"No, no. Are you going to tell me that the reason my son is in the hospital is because he did _drugs_?" his wife covered her mouth with her hands and had to take a seat before he knees completely buckled from beneath her and her husband locked a challenging glare on the elderly doctor.

"What I'm saying is, Mr. Bolton, that we've found a large concentration of Ephedra in your son's system."

"Ephedra? What on earth is that?" Mrs. Darbus made her presence known as she walked up and placed her hands on Sharpay and Gabriella's shoulders.

"Ephedra is a substance that is commonly found in selected types of herbs. Now while it's normally used in the treatment of asthma as a nasal decongestant, it is also categorized among the well known types of performance enhancing drugs, if anything, it's one of the most dangerous."

"Performance enhancing drugs? Troy? That's--how would a kid that age be able to get his hands on that?"

"That is one question that I have no answer to."

"But…Troy. Is whatever's happening to him being caused by this drug? Can you cure him?" turning tear filled eyes at the doctor, Troy's mother still could not accept the fact that her son is here because of some foolish mistake. How could he have…it's impossible, her Troy would never…

"This drug, especially when used without supervision and carelessly can lead to many health complications, even death. In your son's case, the consumption of this drug had lead to a burst of one of the brain's many blood vessels due to pressure, causing an intracerebreal haemorrhage."

"A what?" No one understood what it meant, but it sounded serious.

"In layman's terms, it would be referred to as a stroke."

_To be continued…

* * *

_

ONOESOMG! Another cliff-hanger! D: But before you ask, it is possible for someone Troy's age to have a stroke (so says Wikipedia.) and, well…I thought it's be nice to have something out of the ordinary. But again I stress that I am no doctor, and the extent of my medical knowledge goes as far as to understand that; open wound plus iodine equals owie T.T

**End note**: As you may or may not have noticed; I decided not to give Troy's mother a name. That's how it is in the movie, and that's how I intend to keep it. All the names people make up for her tend to come out cheesy and OC-like, IMO. No offence.


	7. Part VII

_Standard disclaimer applies._

**Note**: I decided to make Sharpay the elder of the twins because…well, she just seems like the bossy elder sister type (am speaking from experience here, so I should know).

**

* * *

**

**Heart of the Game  
**_Part VII_

_

* * *

_

"A…a stroke? You must be joking!"

"I'm afraid that I'm not, Mr. Bolton."

"B-But, it isn't possible," Troy's mother hiccoughed, hands covering her mouth as tears made their way down her ashen face. "He's only seventeen years old. How is that possible?"

"That is one of the most common misconceptions I'm afraid. Illnesses don't differentiate between ages or gender. Strokes can strike patients as young as those still in the womb. Especially ones with a long history of health problems. Does your son have any previous health anomalies? Such as hypertension or heart problems?"

Too overwhelmed to speak, Jack could only shake his head.

"Is he going to be all right?" Chad gulped, silently hugging himself as he found himself wording out the one question that was on everyone's mind, but they were too afraid to voice.

"That much is uncertain; we have him on medication to help stop the bleeding and to ease the pressure on his brain, but we will still have to conduct an MRI to see how much proportion of the brain was affected. The human brain still remains the most delicate and complicated part of the human body, and I'm afraid that there is no test yet available that can tell exactly how much or which part had been affected as the result of injury."

"In your personal opinion…" speaking in a voice just a little louder than a whisper, Mrs. Bolton locked eyes with the doctor, as if attempting to pry the truth out of him as she verbalised her question. "His taking this drug…this…whatever's happening to him…what chance does he have?"

The doctor exhaled, breaking eye contact. Deep down, he knew that she would ask this question, everyone asked this question. But it never made the answering any easier. After all, how do you tell the parent that there was chance that they would have to bury their child. How can you?

"Troys' condition, at the moment, is stable, but he isn't out of the woods yet. Like I said, the nature of the brain and the way it is made up, it is almost impossible to decipher how serious an injury or a result of a stroke had effected it. In Troys case, the substance that he'd consumed, when taken within a short time span of caffeine had caused pressure to build up in one of the fragile brain vessels and this led to the stroke. When someone suffers a stroke, it is almost impossible to tell just which part of the brain was damaged; there have been cases where patients suffer almost no side-effects. But for the rest, it could leave patients with partial or full paralysis of the limbs. Sometimes the effect on the brain is too much and patients remain in a permanent vegetative state."

"Permanent vege…a coma?" Gabriella's voice hitched as she snuggled closer into Mrs. Darbus' shawl, unable to accept the fact of the doctors' words.

"I cannot give you my personal opinion, because I have none. I could say that Troy will make a full recovery when his condition takes a turn for the worse. I could say that he will be permanently effected by this, but instead, he makes a complete recovery. At the moment, we have high hopes. We will know more once the MRI results come out. I will keep you informed."

"Can we see him?" daring himself to speak, Jack didn't mask the anxiety and fear he was experiencing. His mind was a jumble of thoughts, some were his own, others were the words of the doctors' playing over and over in his mind.

The rest turned expectant eyes to the doctor who had just turned to leave.

"It is not advisable…however…only immediate family are allowed in the Intensive Care Unit."

Mrs. Bolton immediate took to her feet. She paid no heed to her husband or the rest of the people in the room as her mind could only fully concentrate on one thing; Troy. Following behind the doctor as he lead them out, she left her husband standing rigid in the middle of the waiting room.

"You kids…Darbus…" he muttered out in a daze, seemingly unable to focus on anything in particular.

"I will look after these kids, Bolton, and inform the school to what had happened. You just concentrate on your son," leaving Gabriella to sob into Sharpay's chest (the blondes' tears staining Gabriella's shirt as they slid down her face), she walked over and placed a hand on the mans' shoulder, attempting to offer some sort of comfort, no matter how miniscule it may be. "Now go and see him," she gave him a gentle nudge in the direction of the door, watching with sad eyes as his hunched shoulders disappeared behind the bend before turning back to the four stunned teenagers in her company.

"So…what now?" Chad broke the tense silence of the room, looking over his three classmates before finally resting on the plump drama teacher. "I mean, do we go back to school or something?"

"I'm staying here," Gabriella answered quickly, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "I don't care if I can't see him, I just need to be here."

"I'll stay too," Sharpay added, rubbing Gabriella's shoulder comfortingly.

"Ryan?" Mrs. Darbus looked over to the last member of the group, leaning discretely against the far end wall lost in thought.

Hearing his name being called, the younger Evans looked up, answering her wordless inquiry with a small shrug of indifference.

"All right; Ms. Montez and Sharpay will stay here, while Mr. Danforth and Ryan will accompany me back to school."

The four gave almost unnoticeable nods of agreement and the latter two walked in-step behind the teacher as she walked out, not in a particular rush, but not necessarily calmly either. The weight of the revelation was burdening down on them like an anvil as all three were plagued by the same worry for their friend, comrade and student.

Would Troy ever be the same after all this?

- - - - -

It was a tense laced lunch period in the cafeteria of East High. The news of Troy's sudden collapse had raged through the school like wild fire. By third period, rumours of his demise had spread through the grapevine, toppling the circulating belief that he'd been infected with the long eradicated Ebola virus and putting to rest the preposterous wind of him contracted HIV through unprotected sex with a Russian prostitute during the summer holidays.

The cliques gathered together in a heated debate over the subject, concocting various scenarios and causes of Troy's sudden illness, though the atmosphere over the one of the tables was anything but heated.

Members of the basketball club were gathered together at their usual table, paying no heed to the students around or those who walked up to ask questions they had no answer to. By the fourth inquiry, Zeke had snapped and this was the main cause for the apparent rift between the club and the rest of the school. Taylor had walked by a few times, thought not verbally asking, they all knew that she was looking for Chad, and from the look on her face, it was obvious that she had been hurt by Chad and Gabriella's' disregard. She'd though that at some point, she had already been included with the 'in-crowd', meaning Chad, Troy, Gabriella and her…but apparently not.

"What do you think happened?" Someone asked, feeling the amounted tension at the worry for Troy, coupled with the fact that they had been stopped from going to the hospital to see him.

The principal was currently _the _most hated man in the school.

"No one knows, so shut up."

"I was just asking, dude, no need to bite my head off."

"Oh, if there was head biting being planned, you would know it."

"What the hell's your problem, man?"

Then commotion at the table began. Bodies were shoved and insults flying around. Many of the students residing at the surrounding table wisely got out of the way, knowing not to get in the way of brawling club members.

"What are you two doing? Troy's in the damn hospital for god knows what reason, and you two are fighting like a couple of girls. Get your priorities straight!" Zeke decided to take a stand once and for all. His teammates were not the only ones who were worried for Troy, if anything, he'd known Troy and Chad much longer than they had. He had even more right to be stressed about the whole predicament. Cookies and soufflés be damned.

Zeke's voice of reason seemed to strike a core in the two who muttered out a silent apology and took seat; sending a wave of relieved sighs blowing across the table.

"Guys."

In the commotion, none of the boys seemed to notice the two people walking up from behind them until the one of the spoke.

"Chad!"

"How's Troy?"

"He's going to be all right, right?"

Unable to comprehend the flurry of questions being directed towards him, Chad merely raised a hand up to halt their inquiries. "We should go somewhere…less public," looking around at the expectant stares the rest of East Highs' population was casting him, Chad's gaze came to rest on his teammates who readily agreed.

"What're you buzzing around here for, Evans?"

Hearing the comment, Chad turned around to look at Ryan and the glares most of the basketball club members were shooting him. "Chill, guys. Ryan's in this as well."

Though no one seemed to be any less apprehensive towards the blonde, they all decided to let the matter drop, following Chad as he let the way out instead. Leaving the rest of the students in disappointment.

Their walk continued in silence until they reached the deserted locker room, Ryan bringing up the rear. Once all the people concerned had arrived, Chad turned around, his eyes showing the apparent exhaustion he was experiencing. He spoke in a grim voice. "I think there's something you guys need to know…"

_To be continued… _

_

* * *

_

Well, I can safely say that I'm proud with this story because--unlike my other two on-going stories--this one seems to be doing just that…going somewhere. So here's to hoping that this story will continue upon the path to somewhere ness on which I have set it until the very last chapter.


	8. Part VIII

_Standard disclaimer applies._

Dedicated to all my awesome reviewers and to AgnesSophia (I'm sorry to hear about your grandfather. My condolences), please, continue being an awesome and brilliant reviewer. I love you all. Sorry for the long delay.

**

* * *

**

**Heart of the Game  
**_Part VIII_

_

* * *

_

There are only a handful of people that in their life time are forced to experience a moment overwhelmed by so much feelings of worry and dread. The steps they're forced to take feeling as if they're dragging lead tied to their feet as they venture down the dreary and seemingly endless hallway. It was like time was standing still, and no matter how much they walked or ran, the desperation dripping out of every pore, it felt like they just could not reach their destination soon enough…or, they did not want to reach their destination at all.

Mrs. Bolton had decided that long ago her life had turned out completely opposite to the way she had expected it to when she was younger. She had dreams of becoming a teacher. She had visions of herself clad in a long, elegant white dress; its train flowing behind her as she walked down the aisle of the church, envious eyes cast on her and hearing the sniffles of joy from her mother. She had dreams of giving birth to a baby girl that she could pamper and spoil with everything cute, shiny and beautiful and hope that one day, once her daughter was married and had a family of her own, would come up to her and say; "Mom. I'm proud to be your daughter."

But it hadn't all worked out according to plan. Instead of becoming a teacher, she had married one and ended up being a simple housewife. Instead of getting married in her dream gown, in a spectacular ceremony at the family's church, witnessed by beloved friends and families, she had a thirty minute wedding in one of the many cathedrals littering the streets of Las Vegas, clad in a pair of jeans and a frilly white blouse. Instead of a daughter, she had a son. But if she were ever given the chance to go back and change something in the past, she would adamantly refuse. As far as it was concerned, things may have not worked out according to plan, but she did not regret a single moment of it.

But now, she was living every parent's nightmare; taking the dreaded steps down the dreary, white hospital corridors. It felt like an out-of-body experience, as if she were a spirit looking down at her body, watching her drag her own feet one after the other, hearing the rapid beating of her heart and the sounds as the tear drops splattered on the polished floors. This was something that you hear about in the news or watch on television. This wasn't supposed to happen to her family, to her son.

"--not regained consciousness."

Hearing the derailing of her morbid thoughts as the doctor's words broke through her subconscious, she looked up to meet his bespectacled gaze.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" he asked, taking note of her dazed expression.

"Yes, I was just…thinking."

Accepting her answer, the doctor nodded briefly and motioned towards the inside of the room they were standing before. The glass door and the large glass windows allowing sight of the prone body and machineries that resided within. It was situated right in front of the nurses' station so to assure prompt action if there was a complication.

Taking a deep breath, Mrs. Bolton took those silent steps into the room; feeling her throat constricting as her lungs refused to pump oxygen. Her vision blurred with tears as she set her eyes on the unmoving body.

"Troy?" she chokes out his name, walked closer to the side of the bed, stopping just inches beside the metal railings. The beeping and hissing of the machines were deafened to her ears, her eyes unable to focus on anything else in sight as they continued to train on the peaceful expression Troy wore on his face. It looked like he was merely asleep, not going through a life threatening illness. His eyes were shut, the long dark lashes resting on his pale cheek. His hair was tousled and spread around his head like a dark halo.

Grasping the rail with her left hand, she reached over, a finger gently brushing the light brown strands from her sons' forehead; a thumb gently stroking his left eyebrow and she bent down closer to his face, fingers running through his hair.

"Troy, sweetheart…mommy's here," she whispered into his ear, eyes moving downwards to study the rest of him; watching as his chest rose as fell with every hiss of the ventilator, to his arms spread out at his side. Leaning her forehead against his temple she placed light, feathered kisses on his cheek, then over his brow and his forehead before touching her forehead to his, fingers of her left hand intertwining with his limp ones as she whispered quiet, reassuring words to his comatose form.

Jack Bolton stood by the sliding door leading into his sons' ICU ward; unable to take the additional steps that would bring him into the room. It was as if some higher power had glued his feet to the floor as they had his eyes to the scene before him. He could not blink or tear his eyes away from the sight of his son looking so frail and helpless, and the mere thought that he could do nothing to ease his son's pain hurt him. He wanted to shout and scream to the heavens to ask them why this was happening to Troy.

Hiccoughing back a sob and covering his mouth with his hand, he continued to look at his wife's teary face as she spoke soothing words into Troy's ears, not knowing whether he would even hear them as he stayed trapped in his own mind.

On the inside, Jack was being eaten alive by the guilt. What if he'd never get to apologize to Troy for the events in the gym? Jack had never physically hit Troy; this was the first time he'd lost so much control over himself that he'd even went as far as to lay a hand on his own son. But…could it have been a bad omen? A sign? Jack had never been a religious or even a superstitious person. His belief lay in scientific proof and whatever that he could see with his own two eyes.

But what if there was something to it? His hitting Troy being the beginning. He had done something he had never done, said things he'd never before even considered uttering to his own flesh and blood; his thought bordering on the impossible because at one point during the confrontation with Troy, his mind had even touched over the subject of hate. He'd hated the way his son had acted towards him in front of the entire basketball club, in front of his colleagues. But to hate the notion, the manner in which Troy had acted, how genuine and honest the feelings seemed to be…would it mean that the hate could have been directed at the person itself? Had his subconscious thoughts lingered on the prospect of him hating Troy, his own son, no matter how fleeting the moment had been?

Unable to continue looking at his son, his mind in the current disarrayed condition it was, Jack turned on his heels, casting one final glance into the room at Troy before taking his leave. He could not be there and look on hopelessly. The shrill beeping of the heart monitor reverberated inside his skull and if he stayed there one moment longer, he'd go crazy.

So Jack Bolton, feared coach of the East High Wildcats, did the one thing that he'd promised himself he'd never do. The one rule his father had drilled into his head countless times, which he, himself, had in turn drilled into Troy's' head. For once, Jack found no strength to face the problem heads on or quench the fear that was clawing at him. For the first time in his life, Jack Bolton had broken his own rule and decided to run away, instead of facing up. At the moment, he could not face his wife or his son. He was afraid, and he just wanted to crawl into the proverbial closet and hide until it went away; like he'd been inclined to do so many times when he was a child. This time, without his father there to drag him out and order him to act more mature…like he used to do.

Unaware to her husbands' brief arrival and departure, Mrs. Bolton mind had not, for one second, concentrated on anything other than Troy. Her eyes could not focus on anything other than the face of her son. Her ears couldn't hear anything besides the sound of the machines wired to Troy's chest or the ventilator that was breathing for him.

How could this have happened? Her mind could not even begin to comprehend the reason why Troy would have done something like this. She thought she'd done her best in bringing him up; that it was not even possible for Troy to even consider taking drugs. He knew the consequences of it. They would spend an hour every week watching re-runs of Oprah on TV. It was somewhat of a routine for them, though he'd never mention it to anyone, like his singing ability. Whether it was due to his embarrassment at admitting his like for the talk show or the fact that he watched it with his mother, Mrs. Bolton didn't really know. But she felt an immense amount of joy and pride just thinking of the fact that she and Troy had a little secret they shared between the two of them; and unlike the many Nazi-like training sessions Troy used to hold with his father, she could simply deduct that the joy was felt on both their parts.

She choked back a sob, allowing the tears to stream freely down her face before dripping off her chin and splattering on Troy's cheek. She wiped the salty liquid from his face, but did nothing for the many sticky steaks over her own. "Troy…baby," her voice shaking and hoarse because of the painful lump in her throat, she couldn't utter any other coherent words, merely calling his name and the many nicknames she'd used when he was still a baby as she cradled him in her arms during many sleepless nights.

As the beeps and hisses continued without pause inside one of the ICU wards, Mrs. Bolton kept the firm vigil by her son's bedside. Day knew no difference from night as far as she was concerned. Her attention continued to focus on her son and her hand never let go of his. As her hitched voice hummed the tune of his favourite lullaby in rhythm with the beeping of the heart monitor, her mind was long cast back into the distant past as she reminisced on Troy's childhood. In a sense, he was still a child, and she hoped that whatever memory she had of the time spent with him would not be the only ones she would ever have.

Her thoughts never once mulled over the whereabouts of her husband. Though she would never tell this to his face and couldn't help but feel a small amount of guilt at the the notion, somewhere in a small corner of her heart…she blamed this all on Jack.

_To be continued…

* * *

_

I hope I got the Bolton!angst factor of this chapter up to the satisfactory levels. There's nothing I like more than a loved one!angst when it comes to stories, mainly mothers. What can I say, I'm in touch with my motherly side and have even mused a few times over the prospect of having a child out of wedlock. Sometimes I do best friends (as in writing, not 'doing' best friends)--which is most of the times 'boy' friends, but seeing as I can't really feel a shred of slashy goodness in HSM (that makes me think of S&M for some reason), I'll keep the story in the good ol' Gen. category. I don't really like writing hetero relationships for some reason (other than the fact that I'm somewhat of a heterophobe) so I'd tell you not to expect anyone being _obviously _paired up/in love/mushy-mushy/kissy-kissy and all that other trivial romance stuff.


	9. Part IX

_Standard disclaimer applies._

**

* * *

**

**Heart of the Game  
**_Part IX_

_

* * *

_

"Chad. Are you sure you're okay?"

"For the hundredth time, mom; I'm fine," the disinterested and somewhat agitated tone rang from inside the closed door.

Mrs. Danforth had spent the good part of five minutes knocking on her son's door, hoping that her inquiries would be answered with something more elaborate than an obviously untruthful 'yes'. So far, her attempts had been shot down in flames.

Chad had returned home just about ten minutes ago. He'd walked sombrely and almost soundlessly through the house, up the stairs and into his room without so much as a 'hello' to his parents. The last time that happened was when he'd gotten into a row with Troy and had ended up not leaving his room for two days. But this time, something deep inside told her that it was something more serious than a mere argument. It was something intuitional and Mrs. Danforth always took her intuition very seriously. There was no way Chad was going to go through the rest of the way without telling her what was wrong.

"Chad. Open this door this instant otherwise I'll get Uncle Ty to take it down. And once that door is down, you can bet your socks that it isn't going to go back up. So buck up, open this damn door or you're going to have to get used to doing your business with the entire household watching!"

There was a moment of tense silence before the sound of stomps headed towards the door and the click as the knob was unlocked. Mrs. Danforth couldn't help but bask in her own feeling of smug superiority.

She pushed open the door and walked in just in time to see Chad plop himself ungracefully onto the bed and throwing a pillow over his face. Smoothing her skirt, she took a seat on the edge of the mattress, her knee touching Chad's as he had both his legs thrown over the side.

"Tell me what happened. Did you get into a fight with Troy?"

From beneath the pillow, her son shook his head.

"But it does have something to do with Troy?"

A small nod. Mrs. Danforth gave herself a proverbial pat on the back. At least it was going somewhere, whether her son wanted it to or not.

"Is Troy…doing something that you don't want him to?"

She heard Chad mumble out something, but combining the fact that he was currently attempting to smother himself with his pillow and from the way he spoke, it sounded like he didn't really want to say anything at all. She placed a hand on his arm and was slightly startled when he suddenly rose up into a sitting position. His shoulders were hunched and his expression downcast.

"It's not good to keep things bottled up inside, honey. If you want to talk about it--"

"Troy had a stroke," he said simply, eyes never leaving the floor.

"…What? A…a stroke?" she stuttered out, covering her mouth with her free hand.

"Troy took some drugs and he had a stroke during practice earlier."

"Wha…Oh, my god. Is he all right? Has his parents been notified?"

Chad merely nodded his head, too overwhelmed with emotion to say anything.

"Do your friends know?"

Again, he nodded his head. "I told the team after we went back from the hospital. Gabriella, Ryan and Sharpay--the Evans twins--knew from the start. The four of us were at the hospital earlier with his parents before they went to see him. I think the principle made an announcement about it to the school. He left out the drugs part though…that's a good thing."

"Yes. It clearly is."

"I'm scared, mom," he spoke in a small voice, finally looking to meet his mothers eyes as tears brimmed in his own. "It's Troy. He's my best friend and if anything happens…I…I don't know what I'll do," he choked out, allowing himself to be pulled into an embrace. "I'm scared. I don't want to lose him."

"You won't, honey. You definitely won't. Troy's a strong boy. I'm sure he'll get through this. But you're going to have to be strong for his sake as well, hmm?" she rested her cheek on the top of his head, rubbing his back comfortingly. "You and your friends are going to have to give him the support he needs. There's not going to be any of this giving up, you hear?" though she spoke with unyielding confidence, the truth was that she was attempting to convince herself with her own words as well. But when the sobs stopped and Chad pulled away from her, locking her with a strong and inspired look as he brushed away the tears on his cheek, she knew that she'd said the right thing.

"You're right. We have to be strong for Troy. Thanks, mom," through the worry that still gripped him, Chad managed his mother a grateful smile before sprinting out the door.

As the thundering down the stairs faded and the sound of the front door slamming to a close reached her ears, Mrs. Danforth took a deep breath, intertwining her hands together in front of her she gave a small prayer that everything would turn out all right. She'd known Troy since he was child, when he and Chad and met in elementary school and through the years, he'd grown to be more of like son to her than just merely her son's friend.

- - - - -

Quarter to five. That's what was read on the round clock that hung over the entrance door of the waiting room.

Sharpay sighed, taking a small sip of the cup of coffee in her hand, careful not to burn her tongue on the steaming liquid. It had been almost two hour since they'd hitched a ride with Mrs. Darbus to come to the hospital; two and a half hours since hearing the news of Troy's collapse from Chad; approximately five and a half hours since lunch when they'd discussed the topic of Troy. It seems like a million years had passed since Sharpay got out of bed that morning. She had such high hopes for the day too.

"Are you sure you don't want some coffee?" turning to the silent brunette in her company, Sharpay held out the cup she'd placed gingerly by her side to the girl, who shook her head, declining politely.

"No, thank you," forcing a small, but sincere smile onto her face, Gabriella once again turned her attention away from the flashy blonde and fixed her gaze on the far side of the wall.

Sharpay just accepted the answer since she didn't really know what else to say or to convince Gabriella. It must be quite a sight to see, now that she thought about it more intently, looking at the downcast girl beside her; seeing Gabriella and herself, of all people, sitting placidly by each others' side. She, Sharpay Evans; Ice Queen, Drama Queen and all those other alias' the students had come up for her and Gabriella 'brainiac' Montez sitting side by side, offering comfort to each other in this dire time. But it was like what people believe: true understanding can only be reached when tragedy has befallen.

Taking a deep breath, Sharpay absentmindedly picked at the folded cardigan on her lap.

"Do you think he's going to be all right, Sharpay?" hearing the quiet mutter, Sharpay turned her head to the side, her blonde ponytail brushing against her bare shoulder.

"I…don't know," she answered truthfully, mimicking Gabriella as she looked at the dirt spot on the otherwise clean floor.

"I'm scared…"

"…I am too."

Neither girls looked up to face the other as they spoke. Gabriella would once and a while dab her eyes with the embroidered handkerchief Sharpay had lent to her sometime ago. Sharpay in turn kept to her uncharacteristic silence. She'd always had a crush on Troy, ever since her eyes fell on him on the first day of school. She had been quite mad and jealous of Gabriella at first when she'd met her for so easily captivating Troy while she'd done everything she could and had ended up with nothing. But one day, a few weeks after the auditions as she sulked in her room, bawling her eyes out at not being cast in the main role, did she have an epiphany; it came in a tall, blonde form and bore the name Ryan Evans. Never had she ever, until that point in her life, realized just wise her younger twin brother really was.

"You girls really should go home. Your parents will be worried about you."

Simultaneously looking up at the elderly doctor, both shook their heads.

"My brother will tell our parents about what happened," Sharpay said, recalling the downcast face of Ryan as he left a few hours ago.

"Mrs. Darbus said she'll tell my mother…I don't really want to leave now."

The doctor could do nothing more than accepting the answers with a nod of his head. "Then why don't you go down to the cafeteria for some food. I don't wish to be the bearer of bad news, but I doubt that your friend will be up and welcoming of visitors anytime soon."

Gabriella and Sharpay just nodded, muttering out a quick 'thank you' to the doctor as he walked out, leaving the two girls to their thoughts. Once and a while, Gabriella sniffled, inviting a sympathetic look from the blonde girl beside her. Sharpay sighed, watching the ripples in the half empty cup in her hands. "Troy…you'd better be alright," she muttered, more to herself than to anyone else. Bringing the rim of the Styrofoam but to her lips, she swallowed the remnants of the bitter coffee.

_To be continued_…

* * *

Just for your information, I '_crave'_ constructive criticism to the highest level -end hinting-


	10. Part X

_Standard disclaimer applies._

I realize that it has been ages and beyond since my last update; in defence against the HSM fandom, I have't updated ANY of my stories or written any new ones in ages. I just don't have the drive to write anything for any fandom. This chapter had actually already been written out sometime ago, and I decided to post this for the sake of all my loyal reviewers and hopefully this move with the be factor that returns my drive to write. Cross your fingers.

**

* * *

**

**Heart of the Game  
**_Part X_

_

* * *

_

Day crossed over into night unnoticed. The bustling in the halls of the hospital was ignored. The weak thumps of footsteps walked the floors without direction, only following whatever path that was undisturbed. Jack Bolton was a man without a purpose. His hands hung limply inside the pocket of his pants, his hair unkempt and a five o'clock shadow left to prosper. His eyes, once shining with firey determination was dimmed, dead. He didn't know where he was going and what he would do once he reached this place he was not headed to; what he knew was he had to get out of this hospital immediately.

So he picked up his pace and ran. He ran, and he ran until his legs felt like lead and his lungs burned. He ignored the calls of the personel telling him to stop, he ignored the pleads of his body for him to stop, most of all, he ignored the little voice in his head telling him to stop. He found that he couldn't stop, if he stopped than it would mean that he'd reached the end of his journey. He was not done yet. He was still attainable at that moment. He was still prone to being dealt the crushing blow. He was still too close to the two people he could not face at the moment. He was still too close to his son.

Perhaps if he were further away, then he could pretend that this was not happening. Maybe the overwhelming amount of guilt would cease their ruthless attack on him. He could not deal with the situation. Having prided himself as being a firm man, the one in charge, he could not deal with the fact that this time, there was nothing he could do or say that would make him the person in charge. There was nothing he could do to change the game play, turn the tide or bring the team back from the brink of defeat. There was no strategy he could come up with that would ensure the survival of his team in the competition because there was no Troy; the play maker. Without the play maker, a team would be nothing. Without Troy, he was nothing.

Jack felt the churning of his stomach, the burning of acid inside of his throat as he stopped short beside the garbage can and half threw himself into the opening, expelling the contents of his stomach. He heaved and heaved until there was no longer anything that could be discarded.

Taking a deep breath, Jack allowed himself to slide over to the side, sitting in a crouched position with his back against the cold, cement wall; eyes watching but not seeing the people who passed by him. The creaks and screechings, the thumps and clangs. But among all the hustle and bustle, there was one sound that stood apart. He heard the call and found himself looking up to stare into magnified eyes.

"Darbus…" he muttered out, half in disbelief.

"Bolton," the elderly woman's eyes widened immensely beneath her think glasses. "What are you doing here? Should you not be with your son?"

Jack looked away, fixing his attention on the old man being wheeled past by a young nurse. "I don't deserve to be in his company."

"What nonsense are you saying," she huffed, taking a seat in the plastic chair that stood in a long queue stretching across the hall, eyes never leaving the top of the downtrodden man's head and he sat bowed on the floor. "I have been your colleague since the beginning, and I never would have expected you to sell yourself so short. Troy would want you there with him, especially in these harsh times."

"Troy hates me. Don't you know that, Darbus? Everyone knows, why haven't you figured it out?!" he yelled, glaring at the impassive woman.

Mrs. Darbus merely exhaled softly, adjusting the shawl over her shoulder and looked away. "A child can never truly hate their parent, as is the other way around."

The man scoffed. "I should know better than to talk about this with you. What would you know about parenting anyway, you don't even have children."

Her eyes physically widened, whether in shock, sadness or anger, Jack never did find out and he quickly looked away. After a moment, there was still no response and Jack dared himself to look at the eccentric drama teacher beside him.

She sat unmoving on the chair, shoulders hunched and hands clasped tightly together on her lap.

"I apologize," he muttered, looking away before she could look down to meet his gaze, but she didn't.

"I may not understand how it feels to be the biological parent to a child, Bolton, but I have had enough students under my wing over the years to know how it feels to love someone other than yourself so much that it becomes a goal in your life to mould them into the best person they can be. I've watched my students learn and grow, watch them go off to college and pursue a career in whatever it is that they chose. I revel in the fact that maybe somewhere in the past, there was something I'd said or done that had helped them become the person that they are today. They may have not listened to whatever advice I give them, heavens, they may not even have respected me all that much, but sometimes, Bolton, making a little effort in believing in others is what makes us the best person _we _can be. Think about it, Jack, and only then are you allowed to assume others' judgement on you."

Without a parting word, she got to her feet, threw the long end of her shawl over one shoulder and left in a clicking of heels.

Jack did nothing to prevent her departure nor did he show any signs that her words had reached him, but after a few silent moments he pushed himself up to his feet and walked off in the direction of the exit.

- - - - -

Gabriella took small, timid steps forward. Each one bringing her closer and closer to the room where Troy resided. Her mind was aflutter and she absentmindedly clenched her fists, fingernails digging into her clammy palm and leaving cresent moon imprints in her skin. She liked the stinging feeling that resulted from her doing that, it took her mind off off the thought of Troy and how he might be doing or imagining how he would look in her eyes when she took that dreaded step into the room. She wanted to bad to see him, especially while her mind was preoccupied with conguring up multiple scenarios that she would meet, but now, knowing that she _could _see him, was on the way to see him, she wished dearly that she was back in the waiting room with Sharpay.

It was only by the compassion of the doctor that she was allowed to venture into the terrifying realm of the Intensive Care Unit, knowing that she at least had a chance to look at Troy, maybe hold his hand in this trying time. That was what made her mind. The doctor was kind enough to give her this and she knew better than to waste it because of some fears she might be feeling. The words of her wise grandmother resounded in her ear.

'_If you want something so bad, but cower in its face once given the chance; could it be that you never really wanted it in the first place?_'

Gabriella allowed herself a small smile at the memory. She always loved her grandmother and was terribly upset when learning that she was moving so far away. She's more than on one occasion had imagined a scenario when she'd bring Troy to meet her. Gabriella just knew that they'd love each other.

The light clicking sound as her heels connected with the stone floor was her only source of comfort now that Troy wasn't there and her grandmother living so far away. But he reveled in the memory of the time she's spent with Troy; the musical, the many lunceons after, the feeling of his skin beneath hers that one time she'd dared enough to make the first move and casually slide her hand into Troy's grip.

She though the fond memories would comfort her, but instead, they doubled her anxiety; remembering a healthy and happy Troy then, and knowing that the Troy she'd find would be anything but…it was scary.

Gabriella was scared, but she didn't turn around. She swallowed her fear, took a deep breath and after a moments pause near the entrance of Troy's room, she venture forth.

"Troy…"

* * *

**End Part X**

To AgnesSophia: Thank you for inviting me to join the C2, I appreciate some good old Troy!angst anyday and perhaps it would even bring me back into the grove of writing. Also I apologize for not replying to your reviews (but don't think I don't cherish them because I do so very much. I always WELCOME constructive critism, the longer the better). Oh, and on the subject of the C2 --not to let myself get bigheaded over this or anything-- but seeing as my story is at number one, could it possibly mean that it was the first story added... :D

This chapter is dedicated to you and all the other readers and reviewers that have/will stay loyal to this story. Love you all lots!


	11. Part XI

_Standard disclaimer applies._

Oh, wow. An actual update? It feels like it's been ages since I'd last visited my profile on this site. I suppose the latest chapter would have to be dedicated to _Wish on a Star Ox;_ read her story: When Dreams Defer because it's just brilliant!

**

* * *

**

**Heart of the Game  
**_Part XI_

_

* * *

_

Gabriella remembers the first time she ever laid eyes on Troy during the party at the ski lodge. At that time, she was too embarrassed by the prospect of singing in front of all those strangers to notice just how cute. Looking back on it, she recalled that prior to the incident, it wasn't his good looks that won her over, it was his charm and kindness. Gabriella always thought that he had the cutest smile.

Gabriella had been all too familiar with the jock-types (although she hadn't known he was one at the time) back at her old school. They were always the same; one-dimensional, all brawn no brain type of people. Although Gabriella wasn't someone who followed the stereotype labelling crowd, this was one of the few exceptions. Had she not met Troy before Taylor, she was sure that she'd turned out with the exact mindset as her girlfriend.

But as it stood, she hadn't met Taylor before Troy. She had gone into East High with the expectation that it would be exactly the same as her previous High School experience. Then, she'd met him again. Hearing the sound of her cell phone that first day at school and looking at the familiar, kindly face flash on her screen, Gabriella's heart had skipped a beat.

"Gabriella?"

Caught up in the memory, feeling the same joy and shock she'd experienced at that moment in Mrs. Darbus' class, Gabriella involuntarily jumped at the sudden voice.

"Are you all right?"

She heard again. This time having regained her wits about her, she looked up and right into the concerned (though the emotion was only the barest flicker) eyes, wet with tears.

"Mrs. Bolton," she'd said at that moment, until her eyes trailed down, following the spot where the woman's gaze had found themselves.

This time, Gabriella felt her heart skip another beat, but it was not because of excitement or happiness. She would have gasped. She would have cried. She would have shaken her head in refusal to accept this reality had she could. But as it were, Gabriella found herself frozen completely in place. She couldn't cry because her body forgot how to make a sound. She would have cried if the sobs weren't stuck in her throat. She would have run away, but her body lost its ability to move.

She remembered the one weekend; it seemed like an eternity ago, when Troy and Chad had taken Taylor and her to the cinema to catch the premier of House of Wax. Gabriella didn't exactly how what had happened or who was who, credited to the fact that she'd spent most of the movie with her hands covering her eyes. She didn't like gore, never did and never would.

One of the scenes that she had accidentally peeked in on was the one that would forever be carved onto her memory. It was of one of the main characters that had been caught by the criminal and waxed onto a piano chair. She'd cringed at the part when one of his friends tried to free him by unintentionally peeling off the skin of his face. She'd subsequently left the cinema in a hurry after that.

But at this moment, Gabriella felt exactly like that; the only difference was that she probably would not have felt if someone peeled off her skin. Everything in her body had just become numb. It was like a belated reaction to what her eyes were seeing. Her mind was still refusing the accept that this was the same strong, kind and beautiful Troy she'd met that fated day up on the mountain.

This person lay unresponsive on the bed; his face pale and his once brilliant, golden locks looking dull and matted.

It seemed like ages before she could feel her heart beating beneath her ribcage again. Before she could let exhale the breath she didn't notice she had been holding. Before Gabriella knew it, she felt her body moving forward; inch by inch. Step by step until it took her right beside Troy's bed.

She looked away, watched Mrs. Bolton as her eyes continue to train on the pale face of her only son. Gabriella couldn't even begin to imagine what must be going through her mind. She tried to think what it this woman was her and the one who lay in the bed to be her mother, but it wasn't possible. Her mind refused to even ponder over the probability.

How could she as a girlfriend, someone who's known Troy for the best of two years even understand how painful it was to be someone who birthed him, raised him; watch him grow up, be a part of their lives for seventeen years, to accept that there was a possibility that what memory they had, it would be just that. She loved Troy, but she knew that there was no love that could rival that of a mothers'. She knew, because she saw in everyday in her own mothers' eyes.

Gabriella said nothing to console the distraught woman, she said nothing at all. Swallowing the lump in her throat and the tears that threatened to spill, Gabriella moved to the other side of the bed and took Troy's free hand in hers, bringing it up to chest level.

"Be strong, Troy," she whispered, though to no one in particular. That was the only words she muttered for the rest of her visit. She just stood and gazed and hoped with all her heart that she--no one, wouldn't have to say goodbye.

- - - - -

"How're you holding up?"

Chad perked up out of the trance he hadn't realized he'd been in and looked over to his unlikely companion.

"Been better," he said, to which Ryan nodded.

"Seems like just yesterday you were hating my guts and thinking up possible excuses for the teachers when they catch you dunking my head in a toilet."

"I never dunked your head in the toilet," Chad replied in a bewildered manner.

"But you were thinking about it on numerous occasions."

Ryan had answered with such an assured tone that Chad couldn't rebuke his suspicion, so he just shrugged it off. "For the record, Evans. I still do hate your guts."

"Like wise."

Chad didn't answer that. His mind instead flashing back to the conversation he had with his mother, and deciding once and for all that maybe there was actually something to this motherly advice his mother had always been nattering about.

What was the point of him moping around, crying like one of the losers on The Bachelor when this was the time to prove his strength? He had to be strong for Troy, as Troy had been for him in fifth grade when he'd been admitted for tonsillitis. It was Troy who's talked him out of sneaking out just hours before he was due in surgery. It was Troy who accompanied him through the most part of his stay. It was always Troy. This time, it was Chad's turn to return the friendship even if it did mean taking the bus to the hospital with one of the people he found most annoying in the entire school, and Chad wasn't even talking about his choice of clothing.

For the record, he didn't doubt that this was Ryan's first trip on a commuter bus.

Chad bowed his head, resting his elbows on his knees and eyes looking sideways to Ryan who had taken the window seat and was currently occupying himself with gazing out to the scenery flashing past. If someone had told him yesterday that there would come a time when he'd actually share a seat with the flamboyant younger Evans, he'd tell the person to get his head checked. If someone had the told him that there would come a time when he'd actually _call_ Ryan (he didn't even know why he had the boys number on his phone in the first place) and tell him to meet him so that they would share a seat together, he'd promptly go running the other way.

But right at this moment in time, everything just seemed to be proper.

They'd taken the seats in the last row after much hesitation on Ryan's part to actually step into the bus and watched as people came and went. The couple who had been sitting in the seats in front of them had just gotten off at the last stop and two high school boys had taken their place. When they'd walked up, Chad had vaguely noted that both of them looked kind off familiar, but it had just been a passing thought, until the word Troy reached his ears.

"Man, did you hear about Troy Bolton?"

One of the two boys had said, apparently nor having noticed the two sitting behind them.

"No, what?"

"Eric and I were just grabbing a smoothie from Pop's when a couple of those East High losers walked by. I heard them say something about Troy fainting during practice or something. Probably from exhaustion, the loser. I always knew he had no stamina."

Chad felt the anger bubble up from inside him as they continued.

"Maybe he's just chicken. No other way out of facing us this Saturday."

"I told you the Wild Cats were a couple of cowardly kittens, didn't I? And Troy Bolton is the biggest cowards of them all!"

They both laughed at the last statement. Ryan looked between the two and Chad, anxiety written clearly on his face as he put a hand on Chad's shoulder, seeing the fury that raged behind his eyes.

"Ignore them," he whispered. "It's not worth it."

But whatever words of wisdom he'd planned to say next was completely forgotten when Chad leaped to his feet and grabbed the nearest of the two boys by the collar of his shirt, bringing the startled boy to his toes.

"What did you say about Troy?" he snarled, brows knitted together and knuckled white.

"W-What the hell, dude? You crazy or something," said the boy Chad held so viciously up by his shirt, his friend jumping to his feet and looked as if he was thinking of pulling Chad off, but at the last minute, changed his mind.

"What did you say about Troy?" he repeated, venom dripping from every word.

"Nothing, man! Get off!"

"Come on, Chad," Ryan said calmly, trying to pull Chad away as gently yet as firmly as he could. "It's not worth it."

"You think you can insult Troy and get away with it, you ass holes! You're the cowards whose only show of cowardice is to insult people behind their backs!" he growled and shoved the boy into the arms of his fearful friend, sending them both to the floor. "I have better things to do than waste my time on a couple of scumbags like you," he glared at them before turning to leave. "Come on, Evans."

Ryan still stood glued to his place, looking between Chad at the rival teams' player who was shooting glared of hatred at the back of Chad's head. He'd half spun on his heels to follow Chad who had just pressed the buzzer signalling that they wanted to get off, when the boy got to his feet once again. From them on, he could only vaguely recall what happened. It was something like an outer body experience. He heard the venom laced words saying; "whatever is wrong with that loser captain of yours. I hope he dies!" and suddenly, he felt an intense pain shooting up his knuckle and wrist as the boy, bleeding lip and all, found himself sprawled once again on the metal floor of the bus.

Ryan's eyes widened and he turned to look at Chad's equally wide eyes before both of them, without a word spoken; left the silent passengers of the bus to stare and wonder what had just taken place. Ryan didn't miss the appraising look Chad shot him as they walked off.

**End Part XI**

**

* * *

**

Didn't Ryan just kick ass? x3

I promise not to take too long with the next chapter, in the meantime, feel free to review or criticise constructively :3_ -hinthint-_


	12. Part XII

_Standard disclaimer applies._

Aaaah! Aren't I awesome for updating so soon:D Oh, and by the end of the first few paragraphs below, incase you're wondering; I do watch American Idol x3; I'm such a loser (and voting for Blake FYI, although I don't really care who wins).

**

* * *

**

**Heart of the Game  
**_Part XII_

_

* * *

_

"You punched the rival teams' ace player?" Sharpay nearly shouted, whether it was in anger or in shock, no one really knew. Sharpay always did have a tendency to overreact.

Ryan recalled an incident in third grade when the music teacher had told Sharpay that her rendition of Somewhere over the Rainbow had been a tad pitchy and way too cabaret. She had thrown a tantrum, stomped off the stage and locked herself in her room in protest for two days. Ryan knew first hand how hard she had practiced for that audition, how many hours she'd spent on voice lessons just to get the chorus right, and in some ways that justified her reaction to the teachers' less than positive response.

When Sharpay did something, she always gave it her all. That was one of the things that Ryan admired most about his sister; even though she did boss him around on a regular basis, steal his toner and moisturiser on an even more regular basis and hold his head in a choke hold while giving him a noogie. This was of course, the things that only happened at home and information to be kept between them and Ryan was all too happy too oblige.

"Where did you learn to punch like that, man?" asked Chad, lost in bliss of ignorance for a few short moments, the thoughts of Troy completely pushed out of his mind. A highly deserved break it was too.

"He must have learnt it from you," interjected Sharpay, regarding Chad with a look. "Just a minute spent around vagabonds like you is enough to affect him for life."

"Actually," Ryan said, with a look that clearly said 'au contraire' (it was Ryan's' most favourite word from his most hated subject.) "I'd learnt it from you," he wore a loop-sided smirk. "Remember Chris Hanson in the fifth grade? That fashion deficient loser with the bad haircut."

"Oh, yeah," Sharpay muttered as the memory registered and she couldn't help the satisfied smirk that curled at the side of her lips. "He so deserved it."

"What?" asked Chad, looking between the Evans twins, not at all bothered by the fact that he seemed to be involved in a normal, civilised conversation with ' Ice Queen' Evans and her sidekick brother.

"Sharpay found out he was cheating and confronted him in the lab before giving him a right upper cut that was the most awesome punch ever recorded in the history of the school."

"Seriously?" Chad gaped.

"Seriously. Then they guy got detention because Sharpay cried sexual harassment."

"Hey, his hand grazed over my boob. I had ever right to."

Sharpay wore an amused look as both Ryan and Chad broke out into laughter. For that moment in time, nothing seemed to be able to disrupt the serenity.

Then Gabriella returned.

"Gabriella," Sharpay said, stopping the laughter midway. The smile was wiped completely from her face and she took a step forward towards the girl that had been, until forty-eight hours ago, right there at the bottom of her most favourite list; right next to the colour beige, but above Country music.

Gabriella said nothing. Her head was bowed slightly, red and puffy eyes shielded from view by her black tresses, tangled and unkempt that fell around her shoulder.

"How is he?" Chad jumped up from his position sitting on the back of the plastic chair, Ryan following suit.

"He…" Gabriella said, her voice just barely above a whisper. "I-I'd gone to the bathroom because I didn't want his mom to see me. She was already so sad," she mumbled.

Sharpay shared a look with the boys behind her, not particularly sure about what Gabriella was talking about.

"Gabriella."

"He looked so sick, he was…he was not the Troy that I know," she sobbed, clutching at Sharpay's top. The blonde did nothing to stop her. "It's not fair. Things like this isn't supposed to happen to people we know, it's supposed to be in the movies, somewhere far and to strangers. This isn't supposed to happen to Troy!" she shouted, burying her face in the crook of Sharpay's neck.

Successfully hiding her shock as she'd never been someone who particularly enjoyed physical contact, Sharpay just circled her arms around Gabriella's waist, rubbing her back comfortingly.

"He'll be okay," she whispered into Gabriella's ear. "He is Troy Bolton after all."

Behind her, neither Ryan nor Chad chose to comment. Chad plopped himself back down onto the seat, dropping his head into his hands as Ryan just looked on helplessly.

Ryan never liked sadness. He didn't like crying or seeing people in pain. He wanted them all to be happy, the way Sharpay always seemed happy whenever he did things for her.

Ryan didn't like feeling helpless either; the last time he'd felt so, he could only watch as the little bird with the broken wing died in the palm of his hand.

- - - - -

'Mom, this is Chad Danforth. We're in the same class at school.'

Hearing Troy's cheer laced voice, his mother diverted her attention from the red basket of laundry she was just about to stuff into the dryer; her gaze looking over Troy's shoulder and finally falling on a mischievously grinning boy with a head of curly hair. That was the first impression she got of Chad Danforth, and it was the same one that she would forever associate with him. The mischievously grinning boy with curly hair.

For days, months and years after that moment, Chad and Troy seemed to be conjoined at the hip. It was always Chad and Troy. Chad and Troy this, Chad and Troy that.

The first time she'd ever been called to the principle's office, the only words said by the man that ever stuck with her was. 'I was informed that Chad and Troy…' enough was said. They were almost like two different people embodying a single entity. The shared the same class ever year, joined the same club, ate at the same restaurant and always sat facing each other; it had become something of a habit for them.

She'd asked Troy once, the night after Chad's mother had come to pick him up, why he hadn't sat beside his friend, instead sitting across from him. She recalled her younger years when she and her then best friend would always sit side by side, foreheads almost colliding as they bent over the latest magazine, cooing and ogling over the pictures.

'Well…because it's Chad,' he'd said with such conviction, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. In a way, perhaps it had been.

Now, she wondered how Chad was handling the situation; thoughts of the boy just suddenly entering her mind. He and Troy were brothers in all but blood, although, Mrs. Bolton mused to herself; she remembered once when Jack had taken the boys out back and attempted to build them a tree house (and attempted being the keyword), they'd come running up to her, both holding bloodied fingers and panic flashing in their eyes. Apparently they'd tried to help Jack with the saw and in the process managed to nick each others' fingers with the sharp blade; the same spot on the same blade.

Perhaps they had become blood brothers after all.

Shaking away the sudden wave of memories, Mrs. Bolton's eyes returned to gaze at her son's face. He looked so beautiful. He was beautiful.

She released her steady grip on her Troy's hand, the other once again running through his smooth, dark brown hair. Stretching her stiff muscles and standing up, massaging the kinks out of her joints after being in one position for so long, she looked out into the hall looking for anything that would give her any semblance of time. Her eyes found the round clock that hung on the wall over the nurses' station. It was nearly ten o'clock.

She wondered whether Gabriella had already gone home.

Her eyes gazed at her surrounding, taking in the sight of the monochromic white walls and the overwhelming smell of disinfectant that filled the air, she suddenly realised that she had to use the rest room badly. But she was torn. She didn't want to leave Troy.

What if he woke up, even for a second and she wasn't there? She'd never forgive herself.

"Ma'am?"

She twirled around, looking into the kindly face of one of the nurses that she'd seem accompanying Dr. Cooper on his rounds. "Yes?"

"I can stay with him for a while, if you want to get something to eat."

She didn't hold back a small smile. "Thank you," she muttered before turning back to the bed. She bent down and placed a kiss on Troy's forehead. "I'll be right back, sweetheart," she whispered lovingly into his ear then pausing, as if waiting for him to respond, to squeeze her hand or open his eyes. Anything that would let her know that he could hear her, that he knows how much she loves him.

The only thing that answered her was the beeps and hisses of the respirator; the tube currently running down her sons' throat made her half glad that he wasn't conscious.

"Ma'am?"

"I'll be quick," she said, but didn't move from her position. After a few additional second, she finally straightened, eyes never once looking away. "Watch him closely, please."

"Of course."

She hesitated in the step, but finally plucked up the courage to walk out, throwing a glance back into the room before the sight of Troy disappeared behind the wall. She took a deep breath and continued on walking. It was as if time was standing still and no matter how much she walked, she still didn't reach her destination. That was what being parted from Troy felt to her at that moment. She passed nurses who flashed her smiles as they made their rounds; deep in her heart, she wondered if it was an obligation for them because everywhere she went, it smelt like death.

The halls were nearly deserted except for the staff. Dr. Cooper had only granted her permission to stay with Troy because he knew that nothing short of death could tear her away from her son.

As she walked, her steps sounding like metal hooves in the hollowed halls, she didn't know what urged her to take the right corner that would lead her to the waiting rooms. But she followed that way nonetheless. The doors leading in were ahead, and Mrs. Bolton unconsciously quickened her pace. The thumps of her shoes on the floor echoes over the wall and she finally came to a halt three inches away from the wooden door. Pushing it open, her eyes glanced inside.

Right there in the barren room, accompanied only by rows of plastic chairs and plastic plants in the corner, was the little mischievously grinning boy with curly hair. Although now, the little boy had grown up and was no longer grinning. His eyes were closed, lips parted as he breathed. His head tilted painfully to one side as he slept sitting up in one of the hard chairs. At that moment, Mrs. Bolton couldn't help but feel herself melt.

"Chad?" she called out as she approached, watching bleary eyes open and a confuse gaze looking around at his surroundings. "Honey, it's ten o'clock. Shouldn't you be getting home?"

"Huh? Oh," he muttered, stretching his arms high above his head, feeling relief as the sore joints popped back into place. "My mom said it's okay if I stayed. Gabriella and Sharpay and Ryan's parents came to pick them up earlier."

"Oh, Chad," she muttered warmly, dropping down to sit next to him. "You need your rest. It's been a long day."

"I'll be okay. I just want to stay," he said and Mrs. Bolton knew that there would be no talking him out of it.

"Do you want to go see him?"

"It's okay. I'll go tomorrow," though he tried to put up a brave front, deep down, he was afraid. After watching Gabriella break down, he didn't think he'd ever pluck up enough courage to go and see Troy.

"All right. Do you want me to ask the nurses if they could get you a spare mattress?"

Again, he shook is head.

"You are one stubborn young man, aren't you?" she said as more of a statement than a question, circling her arms around him and pulling him into a hug.

"You should go and be with him."

"I will. But you…get some rest, Chad. It's going to be a long day tomorrow," and with that, she took off the dark blue cardigan she had been wearing and draped it over Chad's shoulders.

"Thanks."

And with that, their conversation ended and Mrs. Bolton, realising that she didn't have to go to the bathroom anyway, returned to Troy's side. Her heart was warm and aflutter, knowing that Troy had such good friends looking out for him.

She didn't expect anything less.

_To be continued._

_

* * *

_

Yes, I admit that the little bird with the broken wing is such a clichéd plot device (or something) but I just could not resist x3 Also, I realized that I've made everyone so melodramatic, almost Bollywood-esque type of angst. I love it!

I'd written the Troy/Mom part while listening (kinda) to _Sayonara daisuki na hito by Kiroro_. It means (in my non fluent Japanese translation) something like; _goodbye, I love you_…I think. But whatever, it's a beautiful song. Go and look for it, now.

Much love.


End file.
